Page 58 of Bombshell

I gradually become aware of a cold trickle running up my arm. I glance down, confused, to discover a tube running up my forearm.

“I needed to flush your hep-lock. You probably felt that. Woke you up.” She bustles along cheerily, and I blink trying to process her—and everything else.

I’m in a hospital. That seems obvious from the IV and the monitor beeping next to my bed. But I shouldn’t be here. I was somewhere else—with him. I want to go back there. “Where am I?”

It’s a struggle to speak. My tongue feels like I’ve been sucking on cotton balls. The beeping monitor pitches up, and I turn to stare at it, realizing it’s measuring my heart rate. My hand flies toward my stomach, my body understanding before my brain can catch up, but I’m too tangled in lines and cords to reach it.

“The baby!” I croak. My throat goes raw but no tears come. Maybe I’ve dried out completely.

“Oh, no, lamb.” She rushes over and pours me a glass of water. “The baby’s quite alright. See look here!” She swivels another monitor, and I see a second rapid heartbeat.

My baby’s heartbeat. Each little jump on the monitor soothes me. I stare at it until I feel calm again while she helps me take a few drinks from the cup.

“Here. Just be careful you don’t bump the monitors.” She coaxes my arm out from the mess I’ve made of all the lines connecting me, and I’m finally able to settle my palm protectively over my stomach. “Is that better, mum?”

I nod, swallowing down the surge of emotion I feel at hearing that word. Mum. Mom. Mother. I can’t quite identify with it yet. It still feels foreign like I’m trying my best to understand a word in another language but not quite grasping it.

“What happened?” I ask, but before she can answer. The door to my hospital room opens and Felix steps in, holding a cup. His eyes widen when he finds me awake, and he shuts the door quickly behind him.

“I’ll let him tell you, and I’ll send a doctor in. They’ll want to talk with you.”

“Give us a few moments alone before you do that?” Felix requests. His gentle nature radiates from him, and she agrees easily.

If Felix is here, then that means…

“Oh God,” I blurt out. “They called you. They called…” My family. More importantly, my father. Of course, they would. That’s what happens when you wind up in the hospital. I just wish I could remember why I’m in the hospital.

“Yes,” he says soberly. “But please don’t stress. It’s not good for you—either of you.”

“You know?” My voice is so small I’m not sure I even said it aloud until he gives me a grim nod. “And my father?”

“He’s out at the moment, tending to some business. I expect he’ll be back soon.”

“Does he know?” I don’t have to clarify about what. There’s some minuscule piece of me clinging to the idea that my dad might be more concerned with seeing to business affairs than me. Maybe he sent Felix to handle it. Maybe he hasn’t been here himself.

“He knows about the baby, if that’s what you mean. Certain decisions needed to be made, and he is your next of kin. We flew out as soon as we heard. Your father has been staying at your apartment. Only one of us can be here overnight.”

I stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s telling me. My father knows, but he’s not here. Not for the moment. Naturally, it’s Felix that stayed. I wonder if he even had to fight him on it. Dad doesn’t like hospitals. He sees them as places of weakness, as though illness is a fault of character.

“He’s going to kill me,” I whisper.

Felix’s mouth thins into a line. His lack of response tells me that my father is as angry as I expected.

“You are an adult now,” Felix says. “You make your own decisions.”

“That’s a lovely lie,” I murmur. “I wish I could believe it. What happened anyway?” Maybe it’s whatever they’re pumping through my IV, but I can’t seem to recall more than bits and pieces.

“Your horse startled and you fell.”

“But I’ve fallen a hundred times.” I grasp for why this happened now. I’m a good rider. I’m better than good. I know how to take a fall. It’s been drilled into me since I started riding as a child.

“You hit the back of your head on a tree. It knocked you out. Your friends got you to the hospital.”

Poppy. Cyrus. I cover my mouth with my hand. Everyone will know now.

“They’re quite worried about you,” Felix continues, coming over to adjust my pillow. “They weren’t allowed to see you at first, and as soon as we arrived, your father had you moved to a private hospital. He’s not allowing visitors.”

“Have they come by?” I ask.